


Embrace the World in Gray

by kiminsocks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Anger Management, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Jealousy, M/M, Steve Feels, Steve Has Issues, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiminsocks/pseuds/kiminsocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's inevitable that Steve and Tony would fall into this thing, there's too much between them for it not to happen. But things aren't always so simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tags for domestic violence, and some emotional abuse, though that, at least, is unintentional. 
> 
> AoU compliant.
> 
> Title from Linkin Park's "Shadow of the Day."

"Cap! Long time no see!" Tony can feel the smile stretching across his face, couldn’t stop it if he tried. It's been almost a month since he left the Avengers, since he drove off in his sleek orange sports car, leaving his team behind without looking back. He's looked back since then, no question about that, but it doesn't change anything. It won’t change his mind. He’s done Avenging and superheroing and pretending to be better than he is.

Steve grins happily in return, making his way over to where Tony stands by the wet bar of the common floor. Tony reaches out to shake his hand, but Steve snorts and pulls him into a warm hug. He goes without too much resistance, engulfed in body heat and the smell of Steve, Old Spice and spicy aftershave and something just _Steve_. He pats him on the back a couple of times before pulling away reluctantly. He'd forgotten how good it felt to be embraced, to be missed. 

They step away from each other and Tony turns back to the bar. "What'll you have? Beer? Scotch? Glass of warm milk?"

Steve laughs loudly, pushing Tony's shoulder playfully. "Beer is fine, European if you have it," he responds, still smiling. He heads over to plop on the fine leather couch in the middle of the lounge, letting out a gusty sigh and knocking his head back against the cushions, eyes closed.

This feels good, it feels right. He's missed this companionship, having people around him that he likes and that genuinely like him in return. His company lately has consisted of greasy business men at board meetings that have never thought he was good enough to take over from his dad, and the SI R&D department, who are either too busy resenting his genius to pay attention to anything he has to say, or so in love with his genius that they spend the whole time he talks nodding and drooling and not actually paying attention to anything he says.

He huffs. The trials and tribulations of being Tony fucking Stark. Sometimes he misses just being able to kick ass and take names and not worry about kissing fat, white, rich ass the next day. But he’s a co-CEO now, Pepper having decided he should take some more responisibility, and the ass-kissing falls to him now.

He grabs a Belgian beer from the cooler and makes his way over to the couch, sitting down on the opposite end as Steve, pulling a foot up and in toward his lap and resting back against the armrest. He hands Steve his beer and sips on his scotch as Steve opens his eyes and rolls his head toward him, smiling.

“This is a nice couch. I missed this couch,” Steve says lazily.

Tony laughs aloud. “Is that why you came here? For my couch?” he asks.

Steve smirks. “That and an upgrade to my suit. The guys at HQ try, but it somehow never fits right when they’re done with it. You do it best,” Steve says, pouting with big, sad eyes. Tony doesn’t fall for it for one second. Okay, maybe for a second.

“Of course I do, I do everything best,” he says offhandedly. He brushes imaginary lint off the front of his shirt, inspects the back of his nails.

Steve reaches up with a stupidly long leg and kicks him in the shin. Tony kicks back, misses, throws a pillow at the other man’s head instead. Steve laughs and bats it away with a lazy hand.

They sit in comfortable silence until Steve speaks up again. “That isn’t the only reason I came here, though.” Tony grunts in acknowledgement, not sure he really wants to hear what other reason Steve’s got for coming down to the city. He has a feeling he knows what it is.

“Tony, I’d really like you to consider rejoining the team—“ 

Tony cuts him off. “Not happening, Cap. I quit for a reason. I’m not going back on that this time. I know you guys are doing fine without me, I talk to Rhodey like once a week, he keeps me in the loop.”

Steve sighs. “But, Tony, we could use Iron Man—“

“No, Steve. I’m not changing my mind on this. I’m not Iron Man anymore, I’m just Tony Stark, billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist,” he says wryly.

Steve sits up straight and his eyes are sad. “You’re more than that, Tony, and you know it.”

Tony snorts. “Thanks for the pep talk, Cap, but I really don’t need it. I’m right where I’m supposed to be. And I know you guys are doing just fine without Iron Man, so let’s drop this before it turns into one of our famous screaming matches, huh?”

Steve sighs again, giving in, running his hands through his hair. “Alright,” he says, resigned. “Wanna watch a movie? Like old times?”

Tony smiles slightly. “Sure. FRIDAY?”

He sees Steve jump at the unfamiliar voice that answers from the overhead speakers, winces a bit. It took him a while to get used to it, too. Sometimes when he’s tired, he still expects JARVIS to answer and it takes him a moment to remember that JARVIS is dead, and his voice is with Vision now, and Vision doesn’t particularly like him at all. Poetic, in a way. He always figured if he did have kids they’d like him just as much as he liked his dad, so it’s nothing unexpected, even if it stings every now and then.

“Boss?”

“Can you put on a movie? Which Star Wars are you up to now, Steve? Return of the Jedi?”

Steve nods and FRIDAY starts up the movie, dimming the lights and opaquing the windows to prevent the city lights from glaring off the TV. Tony shuffles a little, gets more comfortable, and settles in for the show.

By the time Luke tells Leia that they’re actually brother and sister and Darth Vader is their father, Steve and Tony have somehow migrated closer on the couch, thighs just barely touching, with Steve’s arm thrown over the back behind Tony’s head. Tony keeps poking Steve in the side, telling him to pay attention, this part is important, you’re gonna miss it, because Steve keeps looking at him like he’s got something to say, and Tony’s not sure what’s got him so tangled up in knots but doesn’t know if he really wants to hear it. If it’s another plea to rejoin the Avengers Tony might just get up and storm out to make a point, and he’s having a good time right now and doesn’t want it to come to that, not tonight.

Steve keeps staring and Tony glances at him and suddenly he realizes how close they’ve gotten. Their faces are less than a foot away from each other, and everywhere their legs are touching suddenly feels hot, and Tony can sense Steve’s arm resting along the back of the couch, and if Steve wanted to he could just reach down with his hand and pull Tony in…

Steve doesn’t look away, his eyes flicker between Tony’s, searching. He must find what he’s looking for, because he leans in, and Tony just has time to panic before their lips are touching and they’re kissing and oh my god Captain America is kissing him how the fuck did this happen.

Tony is frozen in shock and Steve starts to pull back, and Tony’s brain kicks back into gear and he must look like the most desperate person on the face of the earth when he practically dives forward to capture Steve’s lips with his again, hands flying up to clutch at Steve’s cotton t-shirt, but Steve must not mind too much because he groans and starts kissing Tony back to within an inch of his life. His arm comes around Tony’s body, palming up and down his back before resting on the back of his neck, his head, pulling Tony closer. Tony clambers up onto Steve’s lap, never breaking contact, nipping at Steve’s bottom lip, gasping when Steve breaks away to suck on the sensitive skin of his neck, trailing kisses along his jaw. Steve’s hands are at Tony’s waist now, pulling him down onto his body, and Tony can feel every bit of him, can feel how much Steve wants this, wants him, and his mind short circuits and he whimpers pathetically.

He gasps, “Bed,” against Steve’s lips and feels him nod, and before he can even move to get up Steve’s standing, lifting his body up completely. Tony gasps and clamps his legs around Steve’s waist as Steve strides effortlessly toward the elevator, and thank god for fucking FRIDAY, the doors are open and the elevator’s waiting to take them up to the penthouse.

They step inside and Steve pushes Tony up against the back wall. Tony’s head falls back with a thump as Steve attacks his neck, holding him up with one hand (one hand, oh my god) while Steve unbuttons his shirt with the other. His kisses move down, over Tony’s chest, as far as he can go while still holding Tony up. He laves over the scars where the arc reactor used to be with his tongue and Tony really doesn’t even know if he’s going to make it to the bed at all at this rate. He’s panting by the time the elevator doors open to the penthouse, FRIDAY chiming tactfully to let them know they’ve arrived. Steve adjusts his grip and turns them around, carrying Tony through the penthouse and into Tony’s bedroom. He kneels on the bed, crawling up it on his knees before he gently lets Tony down into the soft pillows at the top, kissing him breathless.

Tony finally has room and sense enough to let his hands wander, and they roam over Steve’s chest, shoulders, back, pulling his t-shirt up and off, exploring the bare skin underneath. He has no idea how he got here, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it’s one he definitely doesn’t deserve. He doesn’t have the wherewithal or the strength to say no to Steve Rogers. Except…

“Steve, Steve, stop, hold on a minute,” Tony pants. Steve stops immediately, face flushed, lips red and swollen and Tony groans with want. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, holy fuck, Steve.”

Steve’s pupils are so dilated there’s only a tiny ring of blue around the outside. He’s panting, his muscles taut with holding back from grinding down on Tony’s body beneath him. “What, Tony? What’s wrong?”

Tony remembers what he was trying to say, why on earth he told Steve to stop. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong, I just want you to know I’m not with Pepper anymore, I don’t want you to think we’re, I’m, cheating. We broke up. Months ago.”

Steve smiles slightly, huffing a breath out his nose. “I knew that already.”

Tony stops short. “What?” he asks eloquently. “How’d you know that?” he amends.

Steve shrugs, massive shoulders flexing and relaxing and Tony’s hands creep up to settle on them, pushing gently into the firm muscles, massaging. Steve’s eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t hide things from me, Tony. I know you,” he mumbles, almost groaning the last.

Tony doesn't know what to think about that, doesn't really care. Just says, “Huh,” then pulls Steve down by the back of his neck to mash their mouths back together.

There isn’t much talking after that.

***

Steve comes back to the Tower the following weekend, this time with Nat’s uniform in his duffel. He tells Tony that the upgrades he made to the Captain America uniform were amazing and asks if maybe Tony could incorporate some of that into Black Widow’s catsuit as well? Tony spends a couple hours fixing it up, then the rest of the weekend in bed with Steve.

Steve tells him he’ll be back next Friday with Sam’s flight suit and Tony tells him he’ll work on everyone’s uniforms and accessories and weapons regardless, and that Steve doesn’t need a reason to keep coming back. Steve smiles shyly, face flushing with pleasure, before they lose another hour or two in each other.

And so it goes, Steve arriving on Friday night after team workouts end for the week, and Tony makes a point of telling his secretary not to schedule any shareholder meetings after 2pm on Fridays, and absolutely no weekends unless she wants to find herself another genius billionaire to work for.

It’s amazing, it’s wonderful, and it’s probably the happiest Tony’s ever been in his life, if he’s honest with himself. He and Steve have so much fun together, and it’s crazy because Tony can’t really remember the last time he had actual _fun_ in a relationship. Even with Pepper it was always him working to please her, to make sure he didn’t do something wrong, forget a meeting or an anniversary or a birthday or not to call at 4am after a 72-hour engineering binge.

Steve gets him. Steve was his friend first, and maybe it helps that they didn’t get along at the beginning because Steve is definitely aware of his shortcomings and his failures so Tony doesn’t have to pretend to be perfect, or to work to please him. He doesn’t require flowers, and if Tony forgets to call back for a day and a half Steve just rolls his eyes and says, “Hi Tony, finally come up for air?” with a smile in his voice.

It’s fucking perfect, is what it is. It’s movies and popcorn on the couch, and half-hour makeout sessions that don’t always lead to more (but mostly do, which Tony is totally okay with, no complaints here), and random texts that make him burst out laughing because Steve is _sassy_ , okay? He’s fucking wicked with his dry sense of humor and his sneaky mouth and Tony thought he was in trouble before but he’s fucked now, because he’s head over heels for the guy and there’s nothing he can do about it.

At least Steve seems to be on the same page, which helps keep some of Tony’s anxiety about the situation at bay. He catches Steve staring at him often, smiling softly. When they’re down in the lab together to work on something or other for the team or for SI, Steve sketches, and though he’s never shown Tony what he draws, Tony’s got FRIDAY, and he’s seen that it’s mostly him covering the pages of Steve’s sketchbooks. Drawings of his hands, his eyes, his mouth, sometimes the Iron Man suit and the arc reactor, but mostly of Tony as he is now, laughing at one of Steve’s jokes, arguing pointlessly with Dummy, working on one of Natasha’s Widow’s bites with his tongue poking out from between his teeth. 

He’s pretty sure Steve’s just as gone for him, and while that doesn’t make it any less scary, at least he’s not alone.

***

He’s showering after a particularly spectacular round of sex with Steve, contemplating whether he should actually get dressed when he’s done or just stay naked. Steve’s in the kitchen, having decided they needed sustenance, and though Tony had told him he was perfectly fine with not leaving the bed at all today, Steve had insisted on the grounds of Tony doesn’t eat right when he’s not here, so he’s damn well going to eat right when Steve’s here to feed him personally.

Tony hums contentedly as the hot water pounds down onto his back, pillowing his head on his arms against the wall. He wonders what Steve’s making. Steve’s actually a fantastic cook, used to throw together some awesome dinners for the team when Tony had been sure there’d been only leftovers, pasta, and canned soups in the pantry. He’s good at making something out of nothing, that’s for sure. Prime example: Tony Stark.

“Off,” Tony mumbles, and the spray stops instantly. He opens the shower door and grabs a fluffy towel from a shelf, rubbing his hair vigorously and wrapping the towel around his waist, still mostly dripping all over the tile. He makes an executive decision to forego clothes for the moment.

He pads softly into the kitchen and sneaks up behind Steve, who’s at the stove, frying up some potatoes and eggs. He wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, teasing his fingers below the hem of the boxer briefs he’d put on when he’d gotten out of bed. Steve doesn’t jump, super soldier senses and all, but he turns his body and pulls Tony into his chest, still tending to the food with his other hand, nuzzling his nose into Tony’s hair.

“I love you,” he mumbles happily, sweetly, and Tony freezes. Steve must feel Tony’s body go rigid, must rewind and realize what he said, because then he freezes, too. The hand clamped on Tony’s waist tightens, then he puts the spoon down on the counter next to the stove, turns the burners down to low, and grasps the back of Tony’s neck firmly with his now free hand, holding Tony to him. He’s stroking the short hairs at the back of his neck soothingly, and Tony relaxes a little at a time, unable to stay tense under the soft caress.

“Sorry to drop it on you like that, it just slipped out,” Steve murmurs into Tony’s hair, voice low. “But I’m not sorry I said it. I do love you. You don’t have to say it back,” he finishes softly, comfortingly.

Tony nods, face pressed into Steve’s neck. He opens his mouth, closes it. Huffs out a breath. Tries again. “Steve—“

Steve stops him. “Tony, it’s okay—“

“No, listen, Steve, I— Me, too. Me too. I’ve loved you for— for a long time, I think.” Tony feels like an idiot, feels his face flushing, pushes deeper into the space between Steve’s shoulder and neck, but Steve’s not having it. He pulls Tony out and his face is so happy, Tony must have said something right because Steve’s smile is brilliant and Tony can feel his mouth starting to turn up at the edges, too.

“Really? You mean that?” he asks, voice small and hesitant, but so, so hopeful.

“No, Rogers, I’m just that much of a dick. Yes, I mean it,” he says, rolling his eyes. Steve laughs happily and lifts him up, literally spins him around once before setting him back down and kissing him breathless. Tony feels like his life is a movie right now, a fucking chick flick and he hates chick flicks but maybe it’s okay if his life is one, because he’s deliriously happy and Steve is too and he’s totally okay with this, so he’ll take the chick flick, no problem.

***

They’ve been seeing each other for almost two months now, and Steve’s started leaving extra jeans and shirts in Tony’s closet, and there’s a second toothbrush in the bathroom and Tony tries not to think about these things because they make him nervous in the way that everything good he’s ever had has ended badly and he’d be devastated if this did too, so he doesn’t think about them at all.

They’re sitting on the couch, watching some sitcom that Steve has taken a liking to and Tony supposes is alright as a background type of show. Tony’s working on a StarkPad, making updates to the newest StarkPhone design and running his fingers through Steve’s cornsilk hair. Steve laughs as some poor guy does something embarrassing in front of a smoking hot blonde, and Tony smiles indulgently. Steve catches Tony’s eye and smiles back at him.

“Hey, Tony, I’ve been thinking.” Tony hmms, pulling his fingers gently through the blonde strands. “Why don’t you come visit me sometime? I always come here, maybe you could come up and visit every once in a while?”

It’s a perfectly innocent, perfectly fair question, but Tony’s already shaking his head. He can’t. He doesn’t want to go there. That’s where the Avengers are, the people he’d put in danger. The team he’d let down. He’ll fix their equipment and build them new and improved weapons and even help fund the new HQ, but he’s not part of that group anymore, he’s not a hero. After everything he did, he can’t imagine they’d want to see him anyway. He doesn’t know why Steve wants to see him, but Steve was always the best of them, always so good and so kind, always forgiving Tony for things he doesn’t deserve forgiveness for.

Steve’s face falls as he catches Tony’s reaction, jaw clenching unhappily. “Why not?” he asks. He sits up, turning on the couch to face Tony. “I don’t mind traveling to come and see you, but it would be nice if you came to visit me, too. Plus,” he adds thoughtfully, “I think everyone would be real happy to see you again.”

Tony barks out a laugh. “Sure they would,” he says, mouth twisted wryly.

Steve’s eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tony rolls his eyes and heaves an exasperated sigh. “Nobody wants to see me, Steve. Besides maybe Rhodey, but that’s different. I’m not an Avenger anymore, and I’m pretty sure they remember why.”

Steve’s jaw clenches and Tony’s stomach tightens. He doesn’t want to fight, but Steve needs to understand, he’s not going back there. He doesn’t need to see their pointed looks to know he’s to blame for the last time the world almost blew up.

“The only one that remembers Ultron is you, Tony.” Tony snorts. “Fine,” Steve relents, running a hand through his messy hair, “they remember Ultron. But you’re the only one dwelling on it. You helped save everyone, Tony, and they know it. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Steve’s eyes are so earnest it makes Tony want to vomit.

“We wouldn’t have even been in that situation if it weren’t for me, Steve. We wouldn’t have had to save the world. And how many people suffered before we managed it? How many people died? Piet—“ Tony stumbles on the name, pushes on, “Pietro died, and that was my fault, because he never would have been there had I not done something stupid, again.”

Tony jumps when Steve’s hand slams onto the coffee table. He looks up to see Steve’s face flushed, muscles in his jaw clenching. “Stop with the pity party, Tony. It happened. You helped fix it and it’s over now. Yes, people died, but they died helping save the world and they knew the risks going into it. You need to learn to let it go.”

Tony laughs incredulously. “Let it go? Seriously? You haven’t even let it go, Steve, how am I supposed to?”

“What are you talking about?”

Tony is agitated now, standing from the couch and throwing his hands in the air as he rants. “I can see it in the way you look at me sometimes, when I do something you don’t like or don’t agree with, your ‘here he goes again’ face, like I never learn. _You_ can’t even let my mistakes go, how am I supposed to, when every time I see you I can see them all lined up in your face?”

Steve is standing now, too, but he makes no move to come towards Tony. He crosses his arms over his chest and he’s one step away from being Captain America and that’s the last thing Tony needs right now.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tony. You’re being ridiculous,” he says, and Tony can hear the struggle to keep his voice calm.

“Don’t you though?” Tony asks, voice rising, slightly hysterical now. “You get twitchy when I mention new technology, like you don’t trust me with it. You don’t like when I work on upgrading FRIDAY. I can see you holding back, like you don’t want to offend me, but I wish you’d just say it already so I can tell you I’m not doing anything stupid and I won’t break the world again, Jesus Christ I can’t handle the looks, and that’s _exactly_ why I’m not going back there, because I’d get it from all of them, too, and I can deal with it from you, but not from everyone else.”

Steve hasn’t moved a muscle, is still standing stiff and tense at the far end of the living room, watching Tony pace. He takes a deep breath, lets it out, then opens his mouth. “You have a pretty low opinion of the team, and of me, if you really think those things,” he says. Tony opens his mouth to argue but doesn’t really have anything to say to that because he does believe what he said is true. He closes his mouth again and says nothing.   
Steve smiles grimly and reaches down to grab his jacket from where he tossed it on the loveseat, then makes his way to the elevator.

Tony has half a mind to call out to him, ask where he’s going, apologize, something to stop him from leaving, but in the end he says nothing, and Steve leaves anyway.

***

Tony doesn’t hear from Steve for a few days after that, then on Thursday the following week Steve texts him asking if he’s got plans for dinner tomorrow and Tony says no, and Steve says he’ll bring a pizza and Tony better have the final Star Wars movie ready to go when he gets there.

He wonders for a moment if this means he’s forgiven. It can’t be a breakup, (he hopes it’s not a breakup,) because Steve wouldn’t be coming over for movie night if that’s the case. Maybe they’ll just avoid the topic completely and pretend it never happened, and they can go back to weekends at the Tower with no complications.

It ends up being the second one. They have a wonderful weekend, with only a couple of awkward moments, when Steve mentions something about the team and Tony tenses, waiting for the inevitable “Come back” speech, but it never comes. Tony relaxes as Steve just goes on with his story and it’s not long before they move on to more exciting things, things that may or may not include the dining room table and Tony bent over it moaning out Steve’s name repeatedly.

Things are good, right up until Tony says something stupid, again. A stupid comment about SI and the money-hungry board members and how Tony’d like to know if they’d ever done an honest day’s work in their lives, and Steve snaps about how Tony used to be one of those guys.

Tony’s shocked, completely thrown, has no idea where it comes from, and it hurts. It must show on his face because Steve apologizes immediately and blames it on work, on the new team not coming together as well as he’d like them to, the stress is just getting to him.

Tony nods and accepts his apology and smiles when Steve tells him he loves him and kisses him back. It hurt, but Steve didn’t mean it, he knows that. Steve’s always been his biggest supporter, doing nothing but talking him up when Tony puts himself down.

Except it happens again. It’s less an insult and more just an explosion of temper this time, and Steve literally storms out of the penthouse and leaves the Tower at 2 in the morning and Tony is a mess because he has no idea when he did to set him off this time. Some smart ass comment, but that’s Tony, that’s what he does, and Steve knows that, but now it’s like they’re back at square one, like that first day on the helicarrier when everything Tony said was like nails on a chalkboard to Steve and hackles were raised and everything was taken the wrong way on both sides. Except now it’s just one way and Tony doesn’t know how they got here.

He pours himself a drink from the bar in the lounge area and rolls his forehead on the smooth wood. Thunks it a few times, for good measure.

He sits there, sipping scotch until the sky turns light, his phone sitting innocently on the countertop next to him, screen dark.

***

Tony’s in the workshop when Steve arrives, a drink in his left hand while his right works on the specs for the newest green energy solution.

“Hey Tony,” Steve calls across the room, and Tony looks up from the hologram floating in front of him, smiling.

“Hey babe, whatcha got for me today?” Steve grins and lifts two white bags with red Chinese writing on them. “See, this is why you’re my favorite,” Tony says happily, saving his progress and making his way over to the couch. “You always bring me goodies. And you look good while doing it, too,” Tony remarks, leering suggestively. Steve snorts and swats his hand away when Tony reaches to grab his ass.

“Sit down, Tony, and eat something. I bet you skipped lunch again, didn’t you?” Tony opens his mouth to deny it but FRIDAY, the traitor, cuts him off.

“Tony had a protein bar at 7am this morning but hasn’t eaten anything since, Steve,” she says, sounding entirely too pleased with getting Tony in trouble. Why do all of his AIs get pleasure out of tattling on him to Steve? JARVIS had done it, too, during that short stint they’d all lived in the Tower together.

Tony groans when Steve shoots him a disapproving look. “Look, I had a meeting until 2 and then I came straight here and I’ve been working ever since, don’t give me that look, Steve, I got caught up. Plus, I knew you were coming and you come bearing gifts.” He smiles sweetly but Steve doesn’t buy it.

“You need to eat more, Tony. You’re not young—“ “Hey!” Tony interrupts indignantly. “—anymore and you need to be more aware of your diet. And you need to start keeping better sleep hours, too,” Steve adds.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows lasciviously. “Well you certainly don’t help me there, do you, soldier?” Steve rolls his eyes but he’s smiling, so Tony takes it as a win.

Tony’s unbagging the food and snapping his chopsticks in two when Steve asks suddenly, “Why are you drinking?”

He looks over and Steve isn't moving. His hands are resting in his lap and he’s staring at Tony’s drink on the low table in front of them.

“Huh?” Tony asks, slowly opening the container of vegetable fried rice in front of him.

“It’s kind of early to be drinking, isn’t it?” Steve asks, glancing over at Tony. Tony can’t read his expression.

He shrugs, then replies lightly, “It’s happy hour. I’ve had a long week.”

Steve looks unconvinced. “I just know you’ve been trying to cut back, Tony, and if something’s going on that’s making you want to drink more, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Tony laughs. “Oh come on, Steve, it’s just a glass. I have one with you all the time.”

“Yes, but now you’re drinking alone. I feel like that’s a little different, don’t you?” Steve asks pointedly.

Tony groans. “Oh my god Steve, let it go. You sound like Pepper right now.”

And Steve suddenly goes rigid next to him. Tony looks at him in concern.

“Steve?” he asks cautiously.

Steve’s angry. Fuck, what did Tony say to make him angry this time? Is it the drinking? No, he’d been upset about that but was just fine when he was asking if Tony needed to talk. Maybe the mention of Pepper?

“Are you still talking to her?” Steve asks stiffly, gaze burning a hole in the blank TV on the opposite wall.

“Who?” Tony asks, confused. “Pepper?”

“Yes, Pepper,” Steve almost snarls.

Tony stares, mouth hanging open. Is Steve… Jealous? “Steve, what the fuck? Of course I still talk to Pepper, she’s the CEO of my company, for fuck’s sake. She’s my friend. We may have called off the whole dating thing, but she’s not going anywhere if I can help it. I don’t have the patience to do half the shit she does, she better not go anywhere,” Tony trails off jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve grunts, face relaxing the tiniest bit. “You don’t still… Want her, though, right? You don’t still love her?” 

Tony lets out a relieved laugh. Steve _was_ jealous. Wow. Imagine that. “I’ll always love Pepper, she’s been in my life for over 10 years, there’s not many who’d stick around that long. But I love her as she is, like a friend, like I love Rhodey and Happy. Not like I love you.” He leans over and kisses Steve on the cheek. Steve’s arm comes up around him, pulling him into a real kiss, then Steve tucks his face against the side of Tony’s neck.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I just know how much you wanted to be with her, and I don’t like the idea of you with anyone else.” 

Tony chuckles, petting Steve’s head gently. “I’m yours, babe. Only yours.” He feels Steve nod, kiss his neck. He pats him companionably on the back, says, “So I know you don’t mind cold Chinese, but I do, and since we’re done with the whole emotional relationship jealousy schtick, mind if we eat while it’s still at least lukewarm?”

Steve snorts and bites him, then pushes him away playfully. “You’re a jerk.”

Tony smirks. “But you love me,” he teases.

Steve’s smiling but his eyes are serious when he says, “Yeah, I do.”

***

They have good days and bad days, and Tony tries not to worry too much that most times even the good days have their moments. That’s just how they are, Tony and Steve, they’re two totally different people with two very different backgrounds, and it’s only expected that there are a few bumps in the road. Tony can get under Steve’s skin like no one else can, and he knows it’s the same the other way around.

Steve’s got a possessive side. It’s not a surprise, Tony’s seen it in battle when he was still an Avenger. He’s like a papa bear, prowling and making sure all his cubs are safe and right where they’re supposed to be. Any unannounced change in plans and he’s twitchy and tense, voice short over comms demanding why Tony’s not in position, and Tony knows it comes from a good place, a place where he’s worried and scared and he just doesn’t know how to deal with losing someone again.

Now, with the added complication of their relationship, Steve’s protectiveness grows another layer. He’s gotten better with mentions of Pepper but Tony can still see him tense up, and he supposes it’s only fair, Tony did have a pretty serious relationship with her in the not so distant past. But it’s not just her. Tony goes to parties and charity galas now, since he’s got the time and since he’s kind of required to as co-CEO, and he can tell by the texts (or lack thereof) if Steve’s upset when he sees pictures of Tony online or in the tabloids the next day, schmoozing with the upper Elite of New York. 

Tony’s drinking more, something else Steve has noticed, but he’s got it under control. He’s expected to at these shindigs, anyway, and if he has one or two by himself at home, it’s not a big deal, he’s just stressed after a long day’s work dealing with the incompetant morons at R&D that Pepper assures him are qualified, she’d screened them herself, thank you very much.

Rhodey has even come to visit a couple of times, though they were less social calls and more like check ups than Tony feels comfortable with. Why he needs a check up he doesn’t know, he’s working and coming up with awesome new tech every day and he’s in a great relationship with an even better person, with Captain fucking America, how can you go wrong with that? But Rhodey side-eyes his half-full glass and tells him to be careful and Tony shrugs it off, wondering when people started caring how much drank at all.

It’s been a particularly long day, and it’s the middle of the week so Tony’s not expecting company. He’s sprawled on his black leather couch, head tilted back against the cushions, humming along to the classic rock music he’s got playing softly in the background. There’s a StarkPad on the seat next to him, but he’d abandoned that a while ago, when his vision got a little blurry. He’s on his fourth glass of high-end scotch now, and if they’re a little more full than they should be when he refills, no one needs to know. It’s just him, and his music, and a whole 12 hours until he has to be at a meeting tomorrow.

Except then it’s not just him.

FRIDAY computerized voice cuts across the music. “Boss, Steve is here. He’s on his way up to the penthouse now.”

Tony groans. He’s not really in any shape for guests, but it’s just Steve. “Thanks, Fri.”

It’s not long before the elevator doors open and Steve steps out, looking excited as he strides over to Tony.

“Tony, we got a hit on— are you drunk?” Steve’s voice goes high on the question and Tony giggles.  
 “Probably,” he sing songs. “Care to join me?” He waggles his glass at Steve’s waist, which has somehow ended up right in Tony’s eye line.

“No,” Steve says shortly. He glares down at Tony. Tony shrugs.

“Have it your way,” he says, slurring slightly. “What’s up Stevie-poo? It’s Wednesday, you’re not due here for another two days.”

Steve’s eyes narrow. “What, I can’t come see you whenever I like?” he asks, a sharp edge to his voice.

Tony laughs. “Sure you can. You just never do. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

There’s a pause, then, “We had a breakthrough on the Winter Soldier case. I just wanted to tell you, and let you know I’m heading out immediately.” He gestures down at his body. Huh, Tony hadn’t even noticed he’s wearing the Captain America uniform.

“Oh, okay,” Tony says intelligently. He doesn’t know how to feel about this. On one hand, he’s glad Steve may possibly get his friend back, but on the other, it’s Bucky fucking Barnes, and there’s no way Tony can compare to the legend of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

He pushes himself up off the couch unsteadily, Steve stepping back to give him room. He shakes his head a bit to clear it, then sets off across the room toward the bar. Knocking back the last of his drink, he pours himself another. 

“Well, good luck then, hope it all goes well, stay safe, see you when you get back,” he says breezily, not looking at Steve.

Steve’s followed him and stands on the other side of the countertop, and when Tony glances up he’s staring at Tony, face closed off.

“What?” Tony asks, playing stupid.

“That’s it? I don’t know when I’ll be back and I get a ‘Stay safe, see you soon’?” Steve is incredulous. Tony doesn’t blame him, he’s being a dick, he can’t help it sometimes, it’s in his blood.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Tony snaps, heading out from behind the bar and back towards the soft, welcoming couch calling his name. He just wants to be alone now, keep drinking until he passes out from it and doesn’t dream at all.

Steve grabs his arm as he passes by, pulling him around to face him. Steve is angry, Tony can see it in the clenched jaw, in the high spots of color on his cheekbones.

“What is your problem, Tony?” He grits out, squeezing Tony’s arm. Tony thinks there might be bruises tomorrow, his grip is so tight.

“Problem?” Tony sneers back, sarcastic. “I don’t have a problem. No problem at all. Just, you know, you coming to your boyfriend’s penthouse to tell him you’re leaving on a dangerous mission for an unspecified amount of time so you can go find your other, better boyfriend. No problem, though, I understand.” Tony takes a sip of his scotch, eyes burning.

Steve’s hand squeezes tighter. “It’s not like that,” he says, voice low. Tony knows he’s treading in dangerous waters but couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he wanted to.

“No? Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, partners since they could walk, standing up for each other since they could stand, etc etc, and you’re telling me it’s not like that? That it wasn’t ever like that?”

“No,” Steve bites out. His body is coiled tight, like he’s in danger, and Tony should know to back off, he really should. But he never does what’s good for him. He wouldn’t be Tony Stark if he did, would he?

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t tell me you weren't there when he got lonely, and vice versa. Just giving a fellow soldier a helping hand, right? That’s what you guys called it back then, isn’t it? Give him a quick blow job before—“ 

And Tony doesn’t know what hit him. The left side of his face explodes with pain and he almost blacks out, sees bright white and black and spots of red. He’s fallen to his knees, one hand holding his body upright, the other clutching at his cheek. It takes a minute for his vision to start to clear, and he sits back on his heels, panting for breath.

Blinking a few times, he probes blindly at his face with his fingers. “Ow,” he mumbles. It doesn’t feel broken, thank god, but it’s already swelled up, and Tony’s sure he’s going to have a black eye tomorrow. He must have bitten his lip pretty good, too, because he can taste blood. How the hell’s he going to hide this from the Board, from Pepper?

He hears a sound and looks up. Steve is as white as a sheet, shaking hands help up in front of his body like he doesn’t know what to do with them. He’s backing away, stumbling slightly. 

“Steve—“ Tony reaches out, one hand still cupping his cheek, and Steve makes that sound again, pained, like someone has punched him in the gut, and Tony’s heart clenches. He’s horrified as he watches Steve’s eyes fill.

“I’m sorry, Tony, I’m so sorry—“ Steve gets out before his voice chokes off. He turns and all but runs to the waiting elevator, and Tony doesn’t actually see him leave through his own tears.


	2. Chapter 2

He doesn’t hear from Steve for two weeks. No calls, no texts. He has no idea how the mission went, other than what Rhodey told him, that Steve had returned to HQ safe, with Bucky in tow.

He’s drinking again, more than he used to even, and he can’t seem to stop, doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t know how he got here, how it turned into this, but it’s just another chapter in the fucking legend that is Tony Stark, having something good and fucking it up completely.

He spends a lot of time in his private lab. He’s been terrible at going to meetings for SI, telling Pepper that he’s on the verge of a breakthrough, and who knows, he might be, he can hardly remember what he’s working on at the moment but it must be something good because it’s keeping the asshat shareholders quiet.

He thinks he remembers Rhodey visiting him, but it’s a vague, fuzzy thing in his mind. It might have been from before, but he doesn’t think so, because Rhodey’s face is all sad and concerned and he tries to get Tony to eat solid food and drink something that’s not alcohol before he goes.

His phone chimes somewhere in the pile of scrap metal on his workbench and he ignores it. He’s getting tired of the concerned friends thing, he’s fine, he just has to work himself out of this funk he’s gotten himself into.

It chimes again, the tone for a text, and he sighs, turning off the soldering iron and putting it in it’s cradle. He digs through the pieces of whatever he was working on yesterday, he can’t remember, until he finds his StarkPhone, surface cracked from where he’d thrown it against the wall last night after one too many nightcaps.

He unlocks it, checking his texts. Several from Rhodey, a couple from Pepper reminding him about some meeting tomorrow that he’s got to tell her he won’t be at, and then—

A message from Steve.

His heart clenches in his chest and it’s suddenly hard to take a breath. It’s like he’s still got the arc reactor in his chest, like his lungs are still diminished and he can’t breathe as deeply as he needs to. 

His thumb is shaking when he tries to select the text message to open it; It takes him a few tries. 

“Is it okay if I come over tomorrow? I think we should talk. 6 pm?”

Tony’s eyes are blurring. He’s not crying, there’s no reason to cry over a fucking text message, he’s just overwhelmed and overtired and he has no idea what this means. Is it a breakup? Is Steve going to apologize? He doesn’t have to, it’s completely Tony’s fault for running his mouth, for ruining everything. 

His finger hovers over the reply button for a few seconds before pressing it firmly, and he types out a quick response.

“Sure thing. See you then.”

He almost tells him to bring food, like old times, but he’s not sure what to expect. If it is a breakup, Tony just wants him to get it over with, in and out and Tony can get back to living his pathetic fucking life without Steve. So he leaves it short and simple.

He carefully puts the phone down on the table, safely away from any scrap metal, and gets back to work, not surprised but disappointed anyway when there’s no reply.

***

By the time 6 o’clock rolls around, he’s a mess. He’s gone from convincing himself Steve’s breaking up with him, to ordering takeout and queuing up a movie, to canceling the food order and pouring himself a drink to calm his nerves.

FRIDAY informs him at five after that Steve’s here, and Tony watches the elevator doors as the display above them lights up the passing floors. It dings faintly and the doors slide open, and Steve steps out, hands tucked in his pockets and shoulders hunched. 

Sam Wilson follows after him, makes eye contact with Tony and smiles. “Hey Tony,” he says casually.

Tony nods. “Wilson.” He looks at where Steve has stopped awkwardly in front of him, keeping a fair amount of distance between them. “Steve.”

Steve attempts a smile but it falters and disappears when he meets Tony’s eyes. His eyes shine and his mouth trembles before he swallows and his lips thin.

“Tony, I came to apologize,” he says earnestly. He’s got the puppy dog eyes going, but Tony’s not falling for it this time. 

“For what?” he asks hotly. He’s been so sad lately, so withdrawn and upset that he’s shocked at the anger burning up from within him. It’s sudden and powerful and he wants to lash out, make Steve feel how Steve made _him_ feel. Worthless. Abandoned. 

Steve takes a breath, steeling himself. Sam is quiet behind him, a supportive shadow. “For striking you. I— I shouldn’t have done that.” He almost whispers the last. “I’m so sorry, Tony.” 

Tony waves his apology away impatiently. “Fine, great, you're sorry for hitting me. Apology accepted. What about leaving me? Not talking to me for two weeks? Are you sorry about that, Steve?”

Steve looks shocked now, but Tony supposes it’s better than apologetic and teary-eyed. 

“You can’t just— Tony, I hit you! I could have seriously hurt you. It’s not as simple as ‘apology accepted’, here,” he’s saying. He’s getting worked up, Tony can tell. The color is rising to his face and his hands are no longer in his pockets, but clenched at his sides.

“Why not? It happened and you’re sorry and I accept your apology. It’s not a big deal—“

Steve cuts him off. “It _is_ a big deal, Tony, are you being serious right now?”

Tony talks over him. “—what really bothers me is that you dropped off the face of the earth afterwards, like it’s totally acceptable to not speak to me for two weeks after something like that.”

Steve is shaking his head in disbelief and growing agitation. “Tony, I needed time to clear my head after what I did.” 

“Well, goodie for you, while I sat here and imagined all of the wonderful things your silence could mean, thanks for that. You didn't even tell me you were still _alive_ , Steve. I got to sit here and wonder until Rhodey thought it might be a good idea to let me know. I hope your little time out worked out _swell_ for you, it’s been like a vacation for me, really.”

Steve’s face is flushing now and why does it always come to this?

“Tony, I hurt you. I needed time to think. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I needed to be away from you for a little bit—“

“Is that what this is, Steve? Are you breaking up with me?” Tony means to stay angry, but his voice breaks at the end and his throat is burning. He will not break down in front of Steve and Sam Wilson, and why the fuck is Wilson here anyway?

“Why is he here, Steve?” He gestures angrily at Sam, hovering in the background. “Moral support while you break my heart? Someone to reminisce with later about just how pathetic Tony Stark can be?”

“Tony, stop it, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Yes! He’s here because— because I don’t trust myself around you, alright?” Tony scoffs. Steve makes an agitated noise and continues. “You make me so angry, and I don’t trust myself not to hurt you again. Sam’s here to help me control myself if I get upset.”

Tony throws his hands up in the air. “So now we need a chaperone when we’re together? Great, Steve, that’s wonderful, I’m so excited for this, can’t wait. Are you going to rotate them, a different Avenger every weekend? Or is Wilson here taking on the full responsibility all by his lonesome?” He glances over at Sam, whose face doesn’t show anything but concern. Some of Tony’s anger burns away at the sight and he looks away again quickly.

“Tony…” Steve is reaching out to him with one hand, but when Tony looks up Steve stops, hand dropping back to his side.

“I think we should take a break.”

It’s like that time the shrapnel dug into his chest. It feels like getting hit by a bus, stealing all the breath from his lungs and it takes him a moment before he can get air in. But somehow this is worse, because it’s Steve, it’s the man he loves saying they shouldn’t be together, and Tony knows it’s his fault, he did this, and he has to fix it, _has to_.

“Steve, no,” he says, stepping forward and grabbing Steve’s hands in his. 

Steve steps back quickly, like he’s afraid of Tony, or just afraid of touching him. Tony’s heart breaks a little more and he gasps in pain.

“Steve,” he begs, voice strangled.

“Tony, please don’t make this any harder.” Steve’s voice is hoarse, he sounds terrible and Tony doesn’t understand why he’s doing this if he doesn’t want to. 

“Steve, please don’t do this, you don’t want to do this, please. It’s my fault, please, I’ll keep my mouth shut, I will, please don’t go, Steve.” He knows he’s begging, and god what has he turned into that he’s begging like a teenaged girl with tears in his eyes, but he can’t lose Steve, he can’t.

“Tony, I love you,” Steve’s voice breaks. Sam steps forward to put a firm hand on his shoulder. Steve takes a deep breath. “I think we need to take some time off, to figure this out. I can see what I’m doing to you, and I need to straighten myself out before I can trust myself to be around you again.”

Tony is shaking his head wordlessly. He’s speechless. His throat is completely closed up, he can’t believe this is happening. He loves Steve, Steve loves him, but Steve’s leaving him, he’s breaking up with him. 

“It’s Barnes, isn’t it?” he croaks out.

Steve’s eyes flash but Tony see’s Sam’s hand squeeze his shoulder in warning. Steve lets out a frustrated sigh. “No, it’s not Bucky, I told you it wasn’t like that.”

“Then why?” Tony almost wails. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so heartbroken, if he could feel anything at all besides tearing pain in his chest.

Steve’s back to looking sorrowful. “It’s the right thing to do,” he says. It sounds final and Tony knows it’s over. Nothing he says will keep Steve here, not when he’s made his decision, when he’s decided to do the Right Thing. 

Tony grits up just enough dignity to turn his back to them, to Steve, before he covers his face with his hands. 

“Go,” he says.

He hears a sound behind him, like Steve was going to object, but it’s cut off. Then he hears two sets of footsteps moving away from him, toward the elevator. A pause, and Steve says, “I’m sorry,” and then the soft whoosh of the doors closing and they’re gone.

***

Time passes slowly. It’s two whole days before Tony can bother to drag himself out of the workshop, and then he only showers and collapses into his bed that, despite how long it’s been since Steve’s actually slept in it, still reminds him of everything he’s lost. He dreams of Steve leaving him over and over.

Rhodey and Pepper visit him more often now, and Tony guesses that Steve told them what happened. They never mention him, avoid talking about him completely, and Tony can’t help but be grateful. He still gets a lump in his throat when he thinks about him and it takes a minute to be able to speak normally.

He’s still drinking but he can’t find it in himself to care. He knows it’s bad, that he’s probably at the point of being considered a functioning alcoholic, but he functions just fine. He makes stuff for SI, he goes to all the parties and galas that require his presence, attends all his board meetings, and even makes an effort to step outside the Tower when it’s not required by his work every once in a while. 

Sam texts him regularly, keeping him updated on Avengers business, and on Steve. Tony never responds, but Sam doesn’t stop, good guy that he is. Tony should buy him something nice, maybe. A pet, or something. They could keep it at HQ for cheering up purposes. He’s sure even heroes need that sometimes.

Sam tells him that Steve is seeing a shrink now, trying to get his head together. He says that the stress of the last couple of years since the defrost had been hard on him, and that dealing with Bucky has just exacerbated that. That they’ve diagnosed Steve with PTSD and anger management issues, and Tony could have told them that instead of them paying for a SHIELD psychiatrist to do it, but whatever, it’s not his problem anymore.

Before he knows it, it’s been almost two months since the breakup, and Bucky is a full member of the new Avengers, and Tony isn’t even jealous, because if it makes Steve happy, he’s happy. Well, not happy, but it’s good enough for him. Steve deserves this, a family, and his best friend back, and Tony can’t be mad about that. It’s more than Tony deserves, anyway.

Tony’s down in the lab one afternoon when FRIDAY tells him that Steve is calling. Tony’s vision tunnels for a brief second, then sharpens. His heart is rabbiting in his chest when he tells her to put him through.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve says. He sounds good. Less tortured, lighter. There’s a lump suddenly constricting his throat. He clears it as subtly.

“Cap,” he greets. “How are you?” He does his best to keep his voice casual; He’s not sure if he succeeds. He wipes his shaking hands on a rag, leaving grease marks behind on the white cloth.

“Better,” Steve says. There’s a sigh, like a weight has been lifted from his chest. “A lot better, Tony. How are you doing? Really?”

Tony drags up a smile from somewhere. “Great, Cap, working on new network capabilities for SI, it’s hard work but it’s good work, keeps me busy, you know?”

Steve sighs. “Tony, the reason I called was to… Well. Was actually to apologize. Again.”

Tony stays silent, waiting to hear what comes next.

There’s a pause while Steve gathers his words. “I’m— I’ve been seeing someone, a psychiatrist, and I’ve been talking to her about you. Not just about you, about everything, but about you a lot, because you— you’re a big part of my life, you know? I love you, Tony, very much. I hope you know that?” He trails off at the end, making it into a question. 

Tony can only make a vaguely affirmative-sounding noise. His hands are splayed flat on the workshop bench in front of him so he doesn't have to see them shaking.

“I do. And I want to do right by you. And right now, doing the right thing means staying away.”

Tony finally finds his voice. “Are you calling me just to break up with me again? Because I can do without it, you know.” His voice is tight, he’s sure Steve can hear it.

“No, no, Tony, I’m not— doing that. I’m sorry, I just wanted to explain things to you a little better, try to make you understand… I never wanted to hurt you. Physically or emotionally, and I did both. I’ve never really been in a relationship like that, and it got really intense for me really fast, and I— I did a lot of things wrong. And there’s this, this darkness, in me. I’m only just seeing it for what it is, like that time when I attacked you in the lab, when you were creating Vision? That wasn’t okay, but you just shrugged it off, and I let you.” Tony hears him take a deep breath. “But I can’t let you this time. I hit you, I _struck_ you, out of anger, and I need to own up to it.”

“Steve,” Tony tries. “It was my fault. I never learned how to keep my mouth shut, you can’t blame yourself for knocking me around a bit when I say stupid things.”

“Tony, I absolutely can blame myself!” Steve sounds dismayed. “There’s no excuse for me doing something like that, no matter how angry I am with someone. Especially to you. You deserve better than that.”

Tony has nothing to say to that, so he keep silent.

“Anyway,” Steve says, sounding tired now. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry, and I’m working on it, and that you deserve so much better than I gave you.”

“Wait,” Tony starts. “What is this? Is this, are you telling me to, I don’t know, go find someone new, someone I deserve? Is that what this is, Steve? Are you kidding me right now?”

“Tony, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying. I guess, I’m saying don’t wait for me. I love you, so much, but you deserve the world, and I’m a fucking mess, Tony, I’m all over the place.”

Tony is quiet for a second, then he gives in. He can’t fight anymore. “Fine, Steve. You win. Thanks for the call.”

“Tony—“

The call cuts off when FRIDAY picks up on his cut-throat motion. His whole body is trembling, but it’s nothing a drink can’t fix.

***

It should be surprising how easy it is to fall into his old ways, but it’s not really. He’s back to being that genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist of old, and he wonders how he stayed away for so long, _why_ he stayed away at all.

There’s parties and booze and girls and guys and he’s got his new PA escorting them out the morning after, and it’s like he’s twenty years younger and high on life again. And if he feels empty afterwards, if he feels incomplete and dirty and like a waste of fucking space, no one really needs to know.

SI profits are soaring and the Avengers are avenging with all of their new equipment and tech, and if Rhodey gives him these sad eyes when he comes to visit it’s easy enough for Tony to ignore.

Tony’s another year older, living the same old life, when he decides to visit HQ for the first time since he left all those months ago. Steve’s out with Bucky at a Met’s game, so it’s the perfect time, if there is such a thing. Rhodey’s asked him to come, check out the facility and the upgrades they’ve made to it, so he gives in and drives upstate one Saturday afternoon before he thinks on it too much.

The moment he steps out of his outrageously expensive Audi he’s engulfed in a bear hug, and Rhodey really does give the best hugs. It’s nice to see him outside of the Tower, away from the concerned face and worried eyes Tony’s so used to seeing on Rhodey lately.

“Honey bunches of oats, I’ve missed you so!” Tony’s squeezing tightly as Rhodey lifts him off the ground, laughing.

“I never thought I’d get you out here,” he says happily, shooting a mock glare Tony’s way as he lets him back down onto his feet.

“Yeah, well, people change, I’m a changed man,” Tony says, heading toward the main entrance to the facility.

“Mmhmm,” Rhodey says, still laughing, falling into step beside him.

Rhodey shows him the changes to the training area, the new quinjet (Tony just rolls his eyes and asks him who he thinks made the upgrades to it, you idiot?), and then they head to the Caf for a late lunch. 

They’re talking about everything and nothing when Carol, one of the new Avenger’s members and possibly someone Rhodey’s had his eye on if the looks between them are anything to go by, comes over and asks for a moment of Rhodey’s time in the control room. Tony waves him away, tells him he won’t wander off without saying goodbye, and Rhodey leaves after leaning close to him and saying, seriously, “You better not, Tony.”

Tony’s picking at the double chocolate brownie on his tray when he hears someone clear their throat behind him. He turns on his seat to see who it is.

“Um, hi,” Steve says. He looks great, healthy, and Tony never thought he looked unhealthy but he must have been because now Steve’s face is smooth and free of worry lines, and Tony wonders how he never noticed the stress Steve was under when they were together.

“Hey, Cap,” Tony says, smiling brightly. He hopes it doesn’t come across as false. It’s not, really. Just a little surprised, maybe.

“Mind if I sit?” Steve asks, gesturing at Rhodey’s vacant chair across from Tony.

Tony shakes his head. “No, go right ahead,” he says. “I thought you were at a Met’s game with Barnes?”

Steve smiles ruefully as he takes his seat. “Yeah, I was supposed to be. Buck met a girl last month and he cancelled with me to take her out today. Guess she works during the week and only has the weekends off…” He trails off, shrugging as if to say, “What can you do?”

Tony laughs. “What happened to bros before hoes, man?” he gripes, chuckling. Steve looks appalled.

“Tony, she’s not a, a hoe!” Steve says, horrified and indignant. Tony just laughs harder.

“You’re still so innocent, Steve, how is that even possible?” Tony asks. He snorts with amusement, and Steve is smiling at him and it’s been so long since he’s been happy, really happy, and it’s got to mean something that it’s Steve who finally makes him feel this way again, so light-hearted. 

Steve is shaking his head at him, just smiling, and Tony’s carefree attitude immediately plummets, because it’s been almost a year and Tony is still so fucking in love with this man he wants to scream.

Steve must sense the change in his mood, because his smile drops off and he looks serious. 

“Tony, are you okay?”

“What do you want from me, Steve?” Tony asks, feeling wretched. He doesn’t know if he’s ever going to be able to be in the same room without wanting him, needing him by his side.

Steve looks at him, eyes sharp, taking everything in. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just saw you here and wanted to ask how you were doing.”

Tony fakes a smile. “I’m fine. Great.”

“I miss you.”

Tony can’t have heard him right. He looks up at Steve’s earnest face.

“What?”

“I miss you, Tony.” Steve’s so serious, and if by some chance Tony wasn’t still in love with him he definitely is now. He feels his stomach swoop as Steve continues. “I know I’m asking a lot, I know I don’t deserve a second chance, I know you’ve moved on with your life, but…” he trails off, for the first time sounding uncertain. “I— You make me feel so much. So _strongly_. Anger, and hurt, and love, and desperation, and jealously.” His face twists up into something ugly, then smooths out again. “I’ve been working on it, and I know you have no reason to trust me, ever again, but…”

Tony can’t hold back his whispered, “But what?”

Steve looks straight into his eyes while he reaches across the table and grabs one of Tony’s hands in both of his own.

“But I want you to give me another chance. Give us another chance. I know we fight, that’s what we do, we’re too different not to, but I want to do it right, I want to, I want to fight right, to get the chance to show you I can fight with you without hurting you. I want to show you that I can be the man you deserve.”

Tony makes a sound in his throat, and it’s not pretty, but Steve seems to understand, because he squeezes Tony’s hand and continues talking.

“I know I hurt you, in more ways than one, and I’m sorry for that, more sorry than you’ll ever know. But, if you’ll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please.”

Tony’s always been a man of many words, blithe words that flow out of him effortlessly, but Steve Rogers has a way of making him lose them all when he needs them most. He can’t speak, doesn’t even know what he would say if he were able to, so he just nods dumbly. Steve smiles so beautifully it lights up Tony’s soul, filling all of the cracks he’s gained over a lifetime and over the last year, and he reaches up to cup Tony’s cheeks, swipe under Tony’s eyes with his thumbs, pushing away tears Tony didn’t even know he’d shed, before he leans forward to capture Tony’s lips in a soft, perfect kiss.

The rest of his life. Tony’s pretty okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In no way am I condoning returning to an abusive relationship. I've been there and I'm a thousand times better off for getting away from it, and I'd encourage anyone in that situation to do the same. This story, and the ending in particular, is just my way of expressing that there are a thousand shades of grey in this world, and nothing is ever as black and white as it seems.


End file.
